Coming Home
by Scarlett Wilde
Summary: 2008 John Winchester is coming home, but not to Mary or his boys, but to someone else altogether...


Title: Coming Home

**Title: **Coming Home  
**Rating: **NC-17 (essence of smut, slight angst)  
**Warnings:** None  
**Chapters:** 1/1  
**Fandom: **Supernatural  
**Disclaimer: **I own nothing of the SN franchise, and make no money from the writing of this fic  
**Summary: **John comes home after a few weeks of hunting  
**Pairing: **JW/OFC  
**Feedback: **as always, yes please but nits and shreds by PM only, thanks  
**Written:** 2008

**Author's Notes: **So, I had another dream. I must be either obsessing or something…anyway, this was my dream.

John let himself into the non-descript suburban house. Kneeling, he quietly unlaced his boots and placed them beside his knapsack. After the last three weeks on the road, he was relieved to be home. Though he desperately wanted to check up on the boys, there were things he needed to take care of first. They had each other, and he trusted Dean to keep Sammy safe.

Creeping upstairs, he pulled his shirt from his pants and began unbuttoning it as he walked. Charlie. The one thing that kept him sane all the weeks, months, he was hunting. Charlie. The one person, other than his wife, whom he loved as much as his boys. Charlie.

Making a quick pit-stop in the bathroom, he threw his clothes in the hamper and brushed his teeth. Mouthwash got rid of the last vapors of whiskey he'd downed at Ellen's. His body still ached from the fight that had left him covered in scratches and bite marks. Ellen had dressed them as best she could but John knew that as soon as she could, Charlie would re-dress them herself.

Opening the bedroom door a few inches, he could see Charlie curled up on her side. Her dark hair spilled out over the pillow beside her. In an instant, he was aching to climb in beside her and curl his own cold body around hers and let her warmth soothe him.

Trying to disturb her as little as possible, he eased himself in bed and buried his face in her silky hair. The scent of her shampoo filled his nose and he let himself relax a little more. He felt her shift against him, as if even in sleep, she knew he was there and needed to feel him as much as he did her.

He couldn't stop himself from wrapping his arm around Charlie's waist and curling himself around her. She was soft, warm, feminine and right now all he craved. She sighed in her sleep and snuggled closer against him.

John groaned as silently as he could. Her naked form was now pressed tightly against his. Her soft skin pressed against his rough, scarred skin. He knew he was one lucky son-of-a-bitch.

There had been times in the past when he'd wondered if he'd ever allow himself to feel this way ever again about a woman. He'd loved Mary totally and completely…sure, the guilt ate away slowly at him…the boys knew nothing of this part of his life…would they ever accept he'd finally moved on…

He knew the time was drawing in when he'd have to tell the boys about Charlie. It was going to be harder than hell, and sometimes he thought he'd rather fight the entirety of the Underworld single handed rather than face the boys on this one…but he was sick of hiding things from them. They were grown now, adults in their own right. If they didn't like it, they'd just have to get over it.

His thoughts were broken when Charlie rolled over in his arms and slowly blinked open her eyes. She smiled softly at him, too sleepy to talk. That was fine by him; he didn't want to talk either.

John shivered as Charlie's fingertips searched his body for his latest wounds, and when she found one, stroked gently before moving onto another until she had soothed all the ones she could find.

His body tingled all over from the gentleness of her touch and the raging need that boiled inside him. Capturing her face in his hand, he held her still as his lips met hers. It should have been a gentle kiss, but his lips were crushing against hers. He should have been exhausted, but the moment he had felt her body against his…

Coming home wasn't just about the sex though. Although he was a real man who could admit that yes, it was a part of it. Coming home meant having someone there for him. Someone who would accept him and what he did. Someone who cared as much for him as he did for her. Coming home meant he was still alive…still felt…

Charlie wrapped her hands around his biceps, kissing him back for all she was worth. She'd missed him more than she dared think about. She'd always known what he was…who he was…didn't mean she liked it. He'd saved her. After all her family had been slaughtered by a wendigo on a camping trip three years ago. He'd come, and he'd saved her. John Winchester.

At one point, not long after the killing, she'd thought she'd never be able to go on with life…never live again…but John had always been there for her, helping her, comforting her…then one night, after he'd been injured and caught an infection, she'd nursed him through the fever…he admitted that he'd needed her too, that he was falling in love with her.

Neither of them had planned this. Falling. It happened. They needed each other. More than either of them cared to admit. She was always thankful when he came home alive. She dreaded the day she would hear that he wasn't coming home ever again. He filled her eternal emptiness. Her lonely days made more bearable by his presence.

But he was here now. She had him for however long she had him for before the hunt called him away from her again.

The moment she'd felt him climb into bed, her senses had been awakened. His arm, heavy and comforting, had wrapped around her waist with his hand falling naturally just below her breast.

It didn't matter how tired she was, or how long she'd been asleep…the moment his skin came into contact with hers, she had been wide awake. The three weeks he'd been gone had felt like three months. Her body ached for his touch. Her mouth pleaded with his as they kissed. A silent plea.

He knew. She knew he understood. Their bodies moved together. Joining together. A tender, emotional reunion that needed to no words. Slow, gentle melding of bodies. Heat. Passion. Need…

His hard body unyielding against hers, driving her to an insatiable finish. His rough stubble burning her smooth cheek. His breath hot in her ear as he whispered his need for her. His touch branding her…

As the first tendrils of morning filtered through the bedroom blinds, John turned over in bed and sunlight glinted off his wedding ring, blinding him for a second or two…until he saw Charlie, curled up, still sleeping.

He made a silent promise that he would talk to Dean and Sam as soon as he could…but for now, he was happy just coming home to Charlie…knowing she would always be here waiting for him, no demands, no questions…

He coiled his body back around Charlie's, loving the warmth that overflowed her and filled him with the goodness he ached for. She shifted back against him, resting her hand on his forearm, her fingertips teasing the hairs.

"I thought you were still asleep," his gruff whisper broke the silence.

"No…just lying here, enjoying having you back in our bed," she whispered back.

"I'll always come home, baby…no matter what…I'll always come home…" John's whisper faded to nothing…

Alone, Charlie cried into her pillow…she hated dreaming about him…it made her miss him even more…


End file.
